When I lie, it is barely a lie at all but merely a version of the truth. It comes easily to me, as sweet as any other words. When she asks, I am quick to respond with a small nod first - "He is a wolf of Glorall, a subordinate in the pack." It is no true lie for that is what he is - he is no prince, no advisor nor heir but a wolf who serves a pack like any other. His blood is of no concern, no heavyweight in the direction of his life. If she wishes to pry further then she ought to seek it from him - I would be most curious, after all, to see if he falls into the cycle of bragging where bragging cannot be found.

"The elders are stuck in their ways, too defiant to venture beyond pack boundaries." I make the observation with another nod, yet I am inclined to believe there is potential elsewhere. "Come summer, perhaps you ought to approach the packs. There is only so much you can learn from a pack, after all. Maybe the children of spring will be inclined to join your mission." I may even suggest the sentiment to those in Glorall that might be inclined towards children; it would be valuable for them to learn and to gain access to packs. As for my name? "You may call me Eden if you must," I am inclined to give her my true name, assured her acquintenance will come in useful in the coming seasons. I do not need to hide myself from her, I do not think. "Have you a name beyond 'gypsy woman'?" Flattery, perhaps.